


Soft Hands

by sadhockeytrashbaby (allofthefandoms)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Dom Nicklas Backstrom, Dom/sub, M/M, sub Alex Ovechkin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-13
Updated: 2016-04-13
Packaged: 2018-06-01 23:39:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6541462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/sadhockeytrashbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Ovechkin walks into the Capitals dressing room with a collar and the entire Washington sports press corps grinds to a stunned stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soft Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anon8771](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anon8771/gifts).



> Okay, so unconventional sub Alex Ovechkin is my fav and unconventional dom Nicky Backstrom is also my fav, so have a thing.
> 
> And sorry if you like Marchy. He's just an easy go to asshole and I didn't want to think too hard about their opponents. 
> 
> (And yes the title is a hockey pun, idk.)

Alexander Ovechkin walks into the Capitals dressing room with a collar and the entire Washington sports press corps grinds to a stunned stop.

There’s a knowing look darting around the locker room, but no one knows quite what’s going on. The collar is very Ovi. A tag that looks solid gold hangs from a D ring set with red white and blue gemstones, resting right at the dip of his throat where his open shirt frames it. No one seems able to string together a question about it, even though Alex is practically daring them to, chest puffed up and proud.

No one seems to pay any attention to Nicklas Backstrom’s quiet smugness.

Nicky quietly slips a game collar around Alex’s neck when the press is gone. It’s far simpler than the one Alex wore in, an O ring held just under his Adam’s apple by two thin brown leather straps. Alex touches it reverently before they step out onto the ice and Nicky smiles. 

Games against the Bruins are always chippy and physical but the collar seems to be a target instead of just a ring. It’s grating, but Alex seems more than willing to dance out of the way, meeting every chirp with a grin and a chirp of his own. It isn’t until Marchand gets him against the wall after the whistle blows that things go south. Alex seems content to shove and chirp back, but then Marchand gets his stick under Alex’s collar and tugs. Alex goes white, stick dropping from limp hands as the Bruins gathered close laugh.

Nicky sees red.

Dropping his own stick, he bowls Marchand over, sending him to the ice as the crowd around Alex scatters.

“He is not yours to touch.”

Nicky has always prided himself on being level headed. His relationship with Alex was not about dominating, about controlling. Alex was not someone who could be controlled against his will. It was a give and take, beyond their dynamics and into who they were and how they complemented each other. As such, he never felt threatened by other doms, much preferring to let Alex make his disdain for their brute crassness. But this…this was different and Nicky felt no different than the brutes he considered himself so separate from.

Alex is crumpled at his feet, shaking and pale. Nicky has never been angrier, but he takes a deep breath and focuses on Alex, who’s clearly beginning to drop. Dropping a glove, he puts a bare hand on the small patch of neck below Alex’s helmet and he stills.

“You are the most despicable type of dom,” Nicky snaps, trembling with rage. “What about a collar makes you think you have the right to touch?” The refs circle nervously, unsure if a proper fight is going to break out. But Nicky knows he didn’t have time for that right now.

“If you so much as look at his collar again I will kill you.” The threat comes out cold and flat and Marchand takes an instinctive step back, tilting his head in a gesture of submission.

“Sasha, there are 3 minutes left in the period. Go to the locker room and get your blanket. I want you kneeling by my stall when I get down there.” The orders seem to ground Alex and he gets up without any difficulty. Nicky notes with relief that there is more color in his still pale face.

“What the fuck was that?” Tom and the other young doms are livid, half over the boards despite the risk of penalty. Holtby, the only other sub on the team, looks drawn and unhappy, eyes darting between Nicky’s face and the tunnel leading to the dressing room. Nicky lays a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“I’m going to fucking kill him!” Tom is shaking and Nicky has to hold him back.

“Willy…Tom!” Heads snap up at Nicky’s sharp tone. ”No dumb penalties. Any of you.” Eventually the refs sort everything out. Nicky and Marchand get negating roughing minors, but Marchand gets an extra two minute minor for unsportsmanlike conduct and they end the period on the power play. With 42 seconds left in the period, Tom snipes a shot past Rask and it feels like the sweetest revenge.

The team is unusually subdued despite the two goal lead going into intermission. Nicky can tell they are worried about Alex, and seeing him trembling by Nicky’s stall, stripped down to his Underarmor isn’t helping. Nicky goes right to him, shedding gear so he can pull Alex to his bare chest. Tom and Mike hover, less used to sub drop than some of the other doms, and Nicky takes pity on them.

“The trainers have his kit, Tom. Mike, go get me a bottle of Gatorade.” The alphas are clearly grateful for the instruction and Nicky spends the rest of the intermission gently bringing Alex back up, alternating between sips of Gatorade and bits of cookie from his bag.

“Maybe…maybe better if I not wear,” Alex murmurs as Nicky helps him redress for the second period. His eyes are down, and Nicky hates how defeated his posture is.

“And give Brad Marchand the satisfaction of knowing he upset you?” Alex’s nose wrinkles in distaste as he stands. The collar stays on.

Alex plays like a man possessed, scoring two unanswered goals in the first 3 minutes of the second period. After the second, he makes sure to skate by the Bruins bench, head lifted so the lights catch every buckle and ring.


End file.
